


That's What Friends Are For.

by Ultra_chrome



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, due South Seekrit Santa Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-24 08:37:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultra_chrome/pseuds/Ultra_chrome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a perfectly logical course of action, but one which Fraser felt he could safely offer an alternative to without making Ray too uncomfortable. If he were to gain pleasure from Ray's acquiescence, then surely that was nothing more than a fortuitous side effect. He tried to sound impartial as he offered his suggestion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's What Friends Are For.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for j_s_cavalcante in the 2007 dSSS exchange.
> 
> Real life had me pushing this one dangerously close to the deadline, but two wonderful people still found time to offer advice and support.  
> Visionshadows was lightning fast and exceedingly kind in pointing out some issues that needed urgent attention and heartofdavid once again gained my undying devotion by offering me suggestions and providing the encouragement to get it done right.  
> Without them, I am nothing.

|  |    
  
"Ray. You have five minutes to wallow." Fraser bent down in front of the couch to ensure Ray had opened at least one eye and then placed a steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of him.  
  
"I hate you, Fraser." Ray muttered into the beige suede cushion.  
  
"We established that yesterday morning, I believe." There was a hint of amusement in Fraser's voice as he retreated to his bedroom to dress for the day ahead.  
  
Ray was not a fan of mornings and it showed. It was a fact of life that Fraser had come to accept after many months of attempting to change it. No amount of cheerful chatter or breakfast in bed seemed to change Ray's humour before he'd downed at least one cup of coffee. If anything it only escalated Ray's bad mood.  
  
It was much safer to make the offering of coffee and retreat. Ray would inevitably wander in and sit on Fraser's bed to watch him don his uniform and discuss the day's plans in a series of half formed sentences. By the time Fraser was ready to venture outside and retrieve Dief from his morning conveniences, Ray would have awoken sufficiently to dress himself and emerge from his room in a flurry of energy and experimental hair. Caffeine was remarkably effective on Ray Kowalski.  
  
Of course, it didn't automatically follow that Ray's energy levels would survive the drive to work. That depended entirely on the traffic and the conditions. Now that winter was making its icy presence felt, Ray was inclined to fall back into his truculent demeanour almost the moment they pulled onto Lake Shore Drive. Fraser spent many mornings looking out his window and trying desperately not to criticize Ray's driving. That was a game to be played under better circumstances.  
  
This morning was a thankfully uneventful drive and they arrived at the Consulate with Ray only having abused three other drivers and not violating any traffic laws. He was even smiling as he pulled up outside the Consulate. Turning, he looked in the back and asked, "How about it, Dief, wanna hang with me today? I'm stopping for donuts on the way."  
  
Dief stopped panting long enough to appear as if he were giving the matter serious thought, but the timely arrival of Constable Wesley quickly decided him and he leapt from the car without a backward glance.  
  
"He's a sucker for a pretty face." Ray gave Fraser a rueful smile and Fraser thought how it must run in the family.  
  
"I believe she simply has more blonde hair than you, Ray."  
  
"That ain't all she's got, Fraser, don't tell me you haven't noticed."  
  
"I agree, she has many qualities that will take her far in the RCMP."  
  
"That's not the stuff I'm talking about." Ray was watching Dief have his fur ruffled with a distant look on his face and Fraser was in no doubt as to what he was really looking at.  
  
"I work with her. I don't look."  
  
"Sure thing, Frase, I believe you."  
  
Fraser sighed, gave Ray a long suffering look and turned to face his workday.  
  
Four mind numbingly dull hours later, Fraser's day brightened when Ray unexpectedly deposited himself on a recently completed pile of paperwork. "Nothing says welcome to Canada like a hot blonde Mountie on the doorstep. You busy untangling some Canadian citizen from red tape?"  
  
"Oh no, Ray, it's far more rewarding than that."  
  
"Expense accounts?"  
  
"Indeed. Apparently there's a problem with the amount I'm claiming."  
  
Ray raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You buy too many erasers this month?" He shook his head and pointed at Fraser's chest. "No, it's pencils, isn't it? You've been writing yourself warnings for thinking UnCanadian thoughts about that kid that keeps kicking over our trash cans, haven't you?"  
  
"That's very funny, Ray, but no. Although I _was_ considering placing bricks in the cans as a deterrent."  
  
"Nah, the trash guys will hate you and, trust me on this one, you do not want to have the trash guys pissed at you. Now what's wrong with your expenses?" Ray stood and pulled the pile of paper from under his behind and then returned to his former position.  
  
"Ray, there's a perfectly good chair you could sit on."  
  
"If it was perfectly good, I'd sit on it, but it's not, so I don't."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with it."  
  
"If it's so good, you sit on it. " "Fine." Fraser rose and went around the desk to sit in the chair he'd indicated. He spread his arms and raised his eyebrows to demonstrate the chairs sturdiness. Ray did a little victory pump in the air and jumped off the desk and into the seat Fraser had just vacated, making a show of settling himself in and leaning back with his legs slightly spread.  
  
"Now _this_ chair, Frase? Is perfectly good. It's even warmed up for me. You're too easy."  
  
"Except when I'm being difficult, yes, I know." Fraser smiled at Ray and was rewarded with his favourite Ray grin in return. The one that made it apparent that they'd shared a private joke, or a "moment" as Ray called it. He wasn't sure if Ray was aware he fell deliberately into some of his traps just to be on the receiving end of that grin, to feel that the connection between them was something as pleasing to Ray as it was to him. He was indeed too easy.  
  
Ray was shuffling through the pages he'd picked up. "So, I ask again, what's wrong with your expenses?"  
  
"There's not enough of them, apparently."  
  
"No shit? You just don't know how to spend money, do you Fraser?"  
  
"I see no point in being wasteful, as you well know, Ray, but it appears my superiors think I may be skimping on the social aspects of my posting."  
  
"Liaison Officer not liaising enough. Makes sense, Frase. You never go out at night. You hardly ever do lunch and when you do, you don't drink. Booze pushes up the tab, you know."  
  
"I do my duty, Ray." Fraser was a little ashamed at the defensive tone in his voice and rectified it as best he could. "I don't see how being drunk would make me any more effective in negotiations."  
  
"You don't see a lot of stuff. Doesn't mean it's not there. Thing is, most of these guys you deal with, they have pressure in their lives. Job, wife, kids, bosses. They want to have a nice meal out and a drink or two most days. They also don't want anyone thinking they're drunks, so they won't have one if you don't. You feed them, you drink with them, they like you more. They like you more, you get better results." Ray tossed the papers back on the desk and put his feet up.  
  
"Ray! Feet."  
  
Ray grinned again and said, "Sorry." He pulled his feet off the desk and kicked off his boots before returning them. He tilted his head at Fraser in challenge, but Fraser was more concerned with processing what Ray had just told him.  
  
"So, even though I choose not to consume alcohol in my private life, you're telling me that by doing so, I'd be better able to perform my duties as Liaison Officer."  
  
"That's what I'm saying Fraser, only in English instead of Canadian."  
  
"So Inspector Thatcher wasn't simply taking advantage of her position to satisfy her social needs?"  
  
"Who cares? She got the job done, didn't she? Thing is, Frase, you suck at the social stuff."  
  
"I haven't yet had an unfavourable outcome in my negotiations since taking this posting!" Fraser protested.  
  
"That, my friend, is because you bore them into submission. Schmooze baby. They'll give you anything you want."  
  
For approximately the seven hundredth time since taking this job, Fraser wondered what had possessed him. With the promotions bestowed on him after Muldoon's capture, he could have taken a nice, quiet posting anywhere else, but he'd chosen Chicago to be where Ray was happy and this was the only acceptable way of achieving his desire to be close to his partner. Sergeant Benton Fraser was not an ambitious man, but he was aware that his failure at this posting would mean having to leave Ray and this was something he was not prepared to do, even if Ray didn't feel quite the same way about him as he did about Ray.  
  
He would have to accustom himself to liquor in the line of duty. Surely it couldn't be too hard. He'd already learned to wear suits instead of his dress uniform to the various meetings he attended, even though they were usually held within business hours and often here in the Consulate.  
  
There was nothing for it; he'd have to enlist Ray's help in this matter. He took a deep breath and tried not to feel as if he was asking for more when he said, "Ray, would you like to accompany me to dinner and drinks this evening?"  
  
Ray grinned wickedly, "Fraser, are you asking me out on a date?"  
  
"If that's what you'd like to call it. Alright."  
  
"You gonna put it on the expense account?" Ray paused and waited for the shocked expression on Fraser's face. "Dumb question, but you're paying. I got just the place, but first, you wanna come kick some heads with me?"  
  
"Not particularly, Ray, but I _will_ come along for moral support." Fraser reached for his Stetson and tried to quiet the feelings of hope that he knew were false. They were _not_ going on a date. This was just another of Ray's little jokes.  
  
Two interrogations and one arrest later, Fraser followed Ray out into the icy parking lot at the station and tried not to focus too obviously on the way Ray's jeans seemed a little better filled out lately. He was failing miserably and his own pants were becoming much less comfortable as a result, so he hurried to catch up.  
  
"Have you decided where you'd like to go for dinner, Ray?"  
  
"Yeah." Ray kept walking.  
  
"Would you care to share that information?"  
  
"I'm freezing to death here, Frase, can we get in the car first?"  
  
It was obvious to Fraser that Ray was dragging this out for effect, making him wait for no reason other than because he could. A small game of one-upmanship because the suspect they'd just arrested had refused to give her statement to anyone but Fraser in the wake of Ray's less than polite manner toward her. In anyone else, Fraser would have found this behaviour annoying, but he knew it wouldn't go any further than this one thing, so he let it go. Life with Ray was much easier since he'd learned to do that occasionally.  
  
Once they were settled in the Goat with Dief doing his customary circles in the back seat, Ray struggled to get his phone out of his front jeans pocket, creating a pleasant view as he thrust his hips forward and up in an almost obscene manner. It would have taken a statue not to react to the picture it made and Fraser was unaware he'd allowed his appreciation to show on his face until Ray spoke.  
  
"Hey, so my jeans shrunk a little in the dryer. You don't gotta laugh at a guy when he's trying to make dinner reservations."  
  
"I assure you, Ray, I was not laughing at you."  
  
"Sure you weren't. You want lichen on your pizza?" Ray dialled Tony's number and held the phone to his ear.  
  
"Pizza?" Fraser asked. "I thought we were eating out tonight."  
  
Ray held up one hand and placed his order, making sure to threaten violence if his pineapple was missing, then tossed the phone into Fraser's lap.  
  
"No way am I letting you drink in public, Frase. For all I know you could be one of those guys with the repressed anger and the bottled up issues. Or one of those other guys. You know, the guys who love everyone. I hate those guys. Plus, if you get falling down drunk, I can just laugh my ass off at you and not have to feel bad for not helping you up."  
  
"Your faith in me is astounding." Fraser sat back and looked out the window. There were moments, even now, when he felt that Ray really didn't know him at all. They had been living together for the last six months and were intimate in all ways but the one Fraser craved most, and yet Ray could still doubt his ability to behave in a socially acceptable manner, or to know his own limits.  
  
"C'mon, Frase. You know I'm not serious, right? No way are you even going to let yourself get to the point where you let that rod out of your ass. I just... I wanna stay home tonight. We'll get a bottle of something classy and I'll show all my undercover tricks to look like you're drinking as much as the other guy. Maybe introduce you to the wonderful world of Eighties Music."  
  
"From all accounts, Ray, that's an oxymoron."  
  
"Don't call me names."  
  
"I wasn't, I was simply..."  
  
"Shut up, Fraser, I've lived with Mr Dictionary long enough to know what an oxymoron is."  
  
Ray started the car and they were on their way back to their comfort zone.  
  
As always when Fraser left lock up duty to his subordinates, they dropped by the Consulate so that he could check that everything was secure. It was no longer a drawn out process of unlocking doors and disabling alarms only to reset them on the way out and Ray gave him a reassuring pat on the back as he took his seat.  
  
"Feels good to be a little less anal, huh?"  
  
"I wouldn't know. Everything's in order here, shall we collect the pizza and a bottle of something classy."  
  
"Bottle first. Tony's snowed under."  
  
"But it hasn't..."  
  
"Figure of speech."  
  
"Oh." Fraser allowed himself a smirk and Ray punched him lightly on the arm.  
  
There was a liquor store a block down from Tony's Pizza and Ray found parking halfway between the two. Fraser pointed out the fire hydrant next to his door, but Ray refused to move on the grounds that he was a cop and that particular rule didn't apply to him. Fraser suggested that such abuse of his position was unconscionable, but all that achieved was making Ray assume his stubborn face, so he suggested that Ray collect the pizza and he'd find the alcohol.  
  
"Okay, but go with some kind of Scotch and don't be a tight ass. The more it costs, the better it is, okay? Trust me on this. Plus, the guys you're gonna be drinking with kinda expect you to know the good stuff from the cheap stuff, so you need to start at the top."  
  
"Right you are, Ray. I'll meet you back here in two shakes of a lamb's tail."  
  
"Don't say that. That's not cool." Shaking his head in mock despair, Ray headed off down the street, but Fraser could still hear him muttering to himself about how one would think some of his cool would have rubbed off by now.  
  
Fraser held the car door open for Dief, who looked pointedly in the other direction.  
  
"Very well, stay here in the warm, but your ancestors will be turning in their graves."  
  
Dief yipped the equivalent of a four letter word, jumped out with a huff and sniffed the hydrant. He lifted his leg, giving Fraser a decidedly dirty look as he emptied his bladder.  
  
Fraser sighed and pulled his Stetson firmly onto his head. "I can't take you anywhere." He admonished as he walked away.  
  
It was apparent something was amiss the moment Fraser stepped into the store. There were four customers present, three men and a woman, and they were standing in a cluster, looking at the counter rather than the shelves. The clerk had his hands out in a placating gesture, as if trying to reason with a youth in a black hooded jacket. Fraser stepped around the first row of shelves and could see that the young man was holding a gun. Since the cash register was still closed and nobody was yelling, the robbery appeared to be in the early stages.  
  
Fraser determined that if he acted quickly, there was a good chance he could prevent any real damage being done.  
  
"Excuse me." He raised his hands as the young man with the weapon turned to face him. He pressed on. "If you'll just lower your weapon, I think we can resolve this situation in an agreeable manner." He held one hand out and stepped forward. This boy couldn't be more than sixteen or seventeen and from the way his blond hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, he was obviously nervous. The gun wavered briefly before the boy lifted it again, aiming at Fraser's head.  
  
"Get down the back!" he yelled desperately and he waved his free hand to the back of the store. "Everybody! Over there!"  
  
The other customers rushed to the corner indicated, the woman sobbing in fear. Fraser moved slowly, with his hands still raised and regained eye contact with the youth. If he could keep the boy's attention on himself there was a chance the clerk could trigger some kind of alarm.  
  
"Take it easy, son. Nobody wants to get hurt here. If you just think for a moment about the consequences of your actions..."  
  
" _You'll_ get hurt if you don't get over there now!" The youth screamed, his voice was higher in pitch now, making his rising fear apparent.  
  
"Very well." Fraser spoke quietly and flicked his gaze briefly at the retreating clerk in time to see him looking at the door. Hoping that meant what he thought it did, Fraser made to stumble in an effort to ensure the gun remained trained on him.  
  
"Oh dear. There appears to be a loose floorboard. That's quite a public safety risk with all this glass about. I shall have to speak to the proprietor about this."  
  
Once he'd positioned himself so that he was facing the door with the gunman still watching him, Fraser could see Ray crouched behind the first shelf, gun drawn and looking askance at him.  
  
Fraser gave an almost imperceptible nod and spread his arms, angling himself to herd the other customers back further. He was about to suggest once more that the youth put down his weapon when Ray stood up and yelled, "Put down the gun and get your hands up!"  
  
There was a flash of terror in the young man's green eyes and Fraser turned, trying to push the weeping woman out of harms way just as a bottle exploded next to his right shoulder. The woman stumbled, falling into a row of shelves and knocking several more bottles to the floor before Fraser threw himself onto her in a desperate attempt to protect her should more shots be fired.  
  
There was another crash and one more shot rang out but Fraser heard it thud harmlessly into what sounded like the wall. He turned his head and saw Ray atop the gunman, reaching forward to grab his wrists. The gun lay just out of reach and Fraser quickly stood and retrieved it.  
  
Ray was already in the act of reciting the Miranda and Fraser was all set to praise him on the word for word recitation when he noticed the blood. It was difficult to know who was bleeding, but both Ray's hands and the youth's were covered in it. Ray appeared to be struggling to close the cuffs and Fraser rushed to his aid, pulling Ray up by the wrists and turning his hands up for inspection. Sure enough, there were several small wounds in both of Ray's palms and slivers of green glass were visible here and there.  
  
"Ray, you're wounded."  
  
"Way to state the obvious there, Frase. Can you call this in?"  
  
"No need. I believe the clerk triggered a silent alarm. I can hear two cruisers approaching at high speed as we speak."  
  
"Of course you can. Is the kid all cut up?"  
  
Fraser started guiltily. He hadn't even thought to check if there were any other parties injured, but he did so now and discovered to his relief that Ray seemed to be the only one to have sustained any kind of injury.  
  
Within moments, two black and whites arrived, followed a few minutes later by paramedics, who argued with Ray briefly before he allowed himself to be treated on site. Once Fraser had given his statement, he ascertained that the other customers were being taken care of and went to retrieve the pizza from Tony's, making it back just in time for Ray to be released to his care.  
  
"Look Ma, no stitches!" Ray joked as he held his bandaged hands up for inspection.  
  
Fraser looked dubious. "I assume you'll have to keep them dry for at least a few days?"  
  
"Yeah, they stuck me back together with some weird gauzy stuff. Said to leave it on for, like, a week, but just keep it dry for a day or two while it heals a bit."  
  
"It would appear I'm doing the dishes for the duration, then."  
  
"You always do the dishes."  
  
"True enough. Where are the car keys?"  
  
Ray shook his head emphatically, "No way. I can drive."  
  
"Ray." Fraser didn't need to say any more than that, but it still took almost a full minute of staring before Ray reluctantly said, "Left front pocket."  
  
Fraser placed the pizza on the roof of the car and reached forward, noticing as he did that Ray sucked his stomach in and stood a little straighter, but it didn't seem to help and Fraser couldn't get his hand deep enough into the pocket to do more than feel the keys at the tip of his fingers.  
  
"Hey, careful, you're pushing them into dangerous territory there." Ray pulled back.  
  
"I'm sorry Ray, it's a tight squeeze."  
  
"Go behind then."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Go behind me; reach around, like you're digging in your own pocket. How tight your jeans are, it should be a piece of cake to get into mine."  
  
Ray grinned as if he didn't know that what he'd said had more than one connotation. It was going to be awkward, but there was no other way to retrieve the keys, so Fraser stood behind Ray and reached around, sliding one hand fairly easily into Ray's pocket as he rested the other on Ray's hip. It felt disturbingly natural and he couldn't help but take advantage of the situation by going slowly.  
  
"And you didn't even buy me dinner yet." Ray joked. He tilted his hips forward a little to make more room, which pushed his upper body back into Fraser's chest. The contact was delicious and Fraser knew he sounded a little breathy as he replied.  
  
"But I _am_ going to take you home." He pulled the keys carefully free of Ray's pocket just as an officer walked past and jokingly told them to get a room. At least Fraser thought he was joking. Ray apparently did not, as he tried his best to raise his middle finger and called, "Grow the fuck up, asshole." at the retreating figure.  
  
The drive home was relatively quiet, with Ray keeping his eyes closed for most of the trip. He made the excuse of being tired, but Fraser knew that it was so he didn't have to see how slowly they were travelling. Dief kept up a steady whine in the back seat, saying what Ray wasn't, but still he kept to the posted limit and tried to ignore the rising atmosphere of impatience in the car.  
  
When he pulled into the parking bay allocated for their apartment, both passengers burst from the car as if they'd been held prisoner there for days. Fraser however, took his time, making sure Ray's precious vehicle was locked before following them upstairs.  
  
"Home, sweet home." Ray said as he flopped on the couch. "Bring me food and...damn, we didn't get beer."  
  
"I believe you instructed me to buy Scotch, Ray." Fraser said as he gathered plates from the kitchen.  
  
"Which you didn't get, but that's not the point. Point is, I was coming to tell you to grab a six pack while you were busy trying to get yourself shot."  
  
"Oh, so you weren't coming to rescue me, then?"  
  
"Nah. I've given up on that. You have a death wish, Frase and who am I to stand in your way?"  
  
`Wonderful. I shall remember to call for help in future." Fraser placed the pizza and three plates on the coffee table and pushed Ray's hand away from the box.  
  
"Patience Ray. You'll get your bandages dirty. Let me find you some gloves."  
  
"I am _not_ wearing gloves to eat pizza. That would be wrong. That would be as bad as using a knife and fork."  
  
"No gloves, no pizza. I won't have you ruining your bandages."  
  
"What, since it's your fault I got them in the first place?"  
  
"It is not my fault. I didn't push you onto the glass."  
  
"Not in so many words, but if you'd carry a gun, I wouldn't have to save your ass every five minutes."  
  
Fraser headed to his room, "Too much paperwork. Let's not have this discussion now. I'm hungry and Dief is going to chew his own leg off if we don't give him a slice of pizza soon. Not that he deserves it. He was off hunting a candy wrapper while the crime was in progress."  
  
"It's his own fault, isn't it Dief. He keeps telling you to wait outside." Ray was ruffling the half wolf's fur with his fingertips as Fraser came back and handed him a pair of white cotton gloves.  
  
"Aren't these your dress gloves?"  
  
"I have several pairs, Ray. Put them on."  
  
"Can I wear the hat, too?"  
  
"I can't allow that Ray, you have blood in your hair."  
  
"I do?" Ray put his hand to his head and felt around until he found the spot. It was dry and stood in hard spikes as he ran his fingers over it. "Urgh. That right there? Is wrong."  
  
"We'll deal with it later. Eat now."  
  
They ate in comfortable silence and Fraser considered how lucky he was to have Ray, Dief and an apartment to house them all. It was the closest thing he'd had to family since he'd entered the Academy. For all his wishing that there could be a physical relationship between himself and Ray, he was loathe to do anything to risk the contentment he enjoyed now. If Ray's playful flirting was hard to bear at times, it would only be worse if Fraser had to watch him turn that attention on a woman.  
  
He knew Ray had needs, had even been present when Ray had taken care of those needs himself. During the course of their adventure there had been many nights when Ray had turned away from him and brought himself to orgasm as quietly as possible while Fraser had listened to his breathing become erratic, then stop briefly as he reached his climax. There would be some stealthy rustling of the sleeping bag and then Ray would curl up behind him again, slipping easily into sleep while Fraser lay there achingly hard and afraid to do anything about it.  
  
Even now that they were back in civilization, Ray was more comfortable sleeping in close contact with Fraser and often fell asleep on the couch as they watched television late into the evening. When that happened, Fraser would pull a blanket over Ray and retreat to his room to take care of his own needs. It was a less than optimal situation, but it was better than being alone.  
  
Just thinking about those nights in the tent was making him feel aroused and he jumped guiltily when he heard Ray almost yelling at him.  
  
"Earth calling Fraser!" Ray was staring as if he'd been trying to gain Fraser's attention for some time.  
  
"Sorry Ray, I was thinking."  
  
"Yeah, I get that. What planet were you on this time?"  
  
"This one, Ray, just off with the dragons."  
  
"It's fairies. Off with the fairies. Get your bedtime stories straight. You go off with the dragons, your ass gets crispy fried and eaten. Anyway, I was thinking."  
  
"That could be dangerous." Fraser smiled.  
  
"You think you're funny, but you're not. Leave the funny to me."  
  
"As you wish, Ray. What were you thinking?"  
  
"I've got blood in my hair."  
  
"I'm aware of that, yes." Fraser nodded patiently.  
  
Ray rocked his head from side to side in a mocking motion. "I can't sleep knowing I've got blood in my hair. So, how's this for a plan? I put my head over the sink, you wash the blood out for me. Then maybe you could put bags on my hands so I can shower or something."  
  
It was a perfectly logical course of action, but one which Fraser felt he could safely offer an alternative to without making Ray too uncomfortable. If he were to gain pleasure from Ray's acquiescence, then surely that was nothing more than a fortuitous side effect. He tried to sound impartial as he offered his suggestion.  
  
"Perhaps it would be easier if I were to draw you a bath and wash your hair while you were in it."  
  
Ray looked a little suspicious. "Easier yeah, but maybe a little..."  
  
"A little what, Ray?"  
  
"I don't know, weird or something. I'd be naked in there."  
  
"It would be weirder if you weren't."  
  
"You don't have a problem with me being naked while you wash me? My hair. While you wash my hair."  
  
"Not in the least. I've seen you naked before and you can always place a cloth over your..." Fraser waved his hand vaguely, "I promise not to look."  
  
"I don't know, Frase. First you're finding my socks in the morning and now you're washing me. Stella never even did the sock thing."  
  
"I'm sure I'll make someone a wonderful wife someday." Fraser smiled ruefully and rose to get the tub ready for Ray.  
  
"I didn't say yes yet." Ray called.  
  
"You won't say no, Ray. You have hedonistic tendencies."  
  
"Is that a good thing?"  
  
"For the most part."  
  
"Okay, I'll take your word for it."  
  
Fraser let the butterflies in his stomach flutter for a brief, happy moment before he quelled them and focused on the task at hand. As he waited for the tub to fill, he cleared away the pizza box and plates. When he came back, Ray and Dief were deep in discussion about something that seemed to require face licking and the occasional nose to nose contact.  
  
"Bath time." Fraser said cheerfully and Dief took off in a blur of cream coloured fluff.  
  
Ray laughed, "He'll jump into freezing lakes, but he runs at the thought of a warm tub. Go figure."  
  
"Well, he is an Arctic Wolf, Ray."  
  
"Nah, Frase, he's just a dog. He hates it when he doesn't stink. Let's do this thing before the water gets cold."  
  
Ray looked nervous as he stepped into the bathroom, but Fraser was expecting it and did his best to remain expressionless as he instructed Ray to get undressed.  
  
"Yeah. Slight problem, buddy." Ray raised his hands and wiggled his still gloved fingers. When Fraser raised his eyebrows in question, Ray gave him an impatient sigh.  
  
"You may be able to do stuff with Mickey Mouse hands, Frase, but I'm not a freak. Can we lose the gloves already?"  
  
"Oh." Fraser came forward and peeled the offending items from Ray's hands carefully, noticing that Ray winced at even that slight pressure. He knew better than to fuss, however and went about removing his tunic. As he was hanging it on the hook behind the door, he heard Ray cussing.  
  
" _Another_ slight problem?" Fraser asked, turning to find Ray struggling with his belt buckle.  
  
"Hands are a little stiff."  
  
"Allow me." Fraser reached out and noticed that Ray spread his arms wide and sucked his stomach in as he made contact. The buckle was quite difficult and Fraser had to step close to achieve the correct angle. Ray grinned at him.  
  
"See what happens when you buy me dinner? Just think if you'd picked up that beer I wanted."  
  
Fraser looked down, hoping to hide the blush he could feel coming and concentrated on unfastening Ray's jeans. He was about to push them down when Ray pulled back.  
  
"I got it from here. I'm good. Thanks."  
  
"That's what friends are for, Ray."  
  
"To undress you? `Cause I always thought it was to tell you how much you suck and still love you anyway."  
  
"Oh. My mistake."  
  
Fraser was smiling as he turned away to gather the items he would need. He focused entirely on what he was doing, trying to get some control over his imagination as he waited for Ray to indicate that he was ready.  
  
When he turned back, he found Ray sitting in the tub with his legs drawn up to his chest and one arm up against the wall while the other dangled from the side of the tub. It was quite the picture of discomfort and Fraser wondered if this had been a good idea. They were here now though, and there was nothing to do but press on and try to make it painless for both of them.  
  
"Would you like something to cover yourself with?" he asked, hoping that Ray would say no.  
  
"Yeah, but I can't..." Ray waved his bandaged hands.  
  
"Oh. Of course not. Here, I won't look. Put your legs down and get comfortable." Fraser picked up a spare towel and held it ready to drape over the tub to hide Ray's nakedness. The end nearest the wall immediately fell into the water and the rest soon followed, floating for a moment before settling on Ray's skin.  
  
"Okay, so that doesn't feel weird." Ray said with a small smile as Fraser picked up a bowl and dipped it into the bathwater.  
  
"Tip your head forward." He instructed and Ray closed his eyes and did as he was told. Fraser thoroughly wet Ray's hair and poured a little shampoo into the palm of his hand before pulling Ray's head back gently. He knelt behind the tub and began to work the shampoo into Ray's hair, taking far more pleasure than he should from the contact. He watched idly as the bloody section of hair turned pale pink and foamy under his fingers.  
  
Ray leaned back in the tub, groaning quietly and Fraser stilled his fingers, "Do you have a wound on your head, Ray? I'm terribly sorry; it was remiss of me not to check first."  
  
Ray's head turned slightly as he murmured a negative. "Feels good. You're wasted as a Mountie, Frase. You should have gone in for hairdressing."  
  
"Not much call for it where I grew up." Frase resumed massaging Ray's scalp.  
  
Ray laughed lazily, "I guess not. Those are some scary looking people up there. So how come you always look good?"  
  
"My job requires a high level of personal grooming."  
  
"No, I mean, even when we were out playing Franklins you always looked good. Me on the other hand? I always looked like shit."  
  
Fraser blushed at the compliment, even as he corrected Ray, "No, Ray, even after a month without hair styling products, you remained as attractive as ever."  
  
"Attractive, huh? To polar bears maybe."  
  
Fraser stifled the urge to argue the point. It wouldn't do to let the cat out of the bag while Ray was in such a vulnerable position. "Rinse." He ordered, and Ray reluctantly sat up to have water poured over his head again.  
  
With that done he pulled Ray back down and applied the conditioner.  
  
"You know that has to stay on for a couple minutes?" Ray asked and Fraser could hear the amusement in his voice.  
  
He sighed dramatically and said, "Oh well, I suppose I shall have to continue with the massage until it's time to rinse again."  
  
"I suppose you will."  
  
"Will you count, or should I?" Fraser asked, slowly working his fingertips in circles.  
  
"Me." Ray's voice was lazy and he relaxed into Fraser's hands. "I'll tell you when to stop."  
  
Although he was only washing his partner's hair, it felt like so much more to Fraser. Ray had overcome his initial discomfort with such ease that the situation seemed almost commonplace and yet it held such significance for Fraser. This was something he could remember during those long nights listening to Ray snore on the couch instead of next to him.  
  
He looked down into Ray's face and saw that he had closed his eyes, lashes wet and spiky against cheeks flushed by the warm water. He looked so peaceful and vulnerable that it tore at Fraser's resolve. He couldn't admit his feelings to Ray. Ray liked women, no matter the flirting and the physical closeness that typically indicated desire. It was merely transference on Ray's part and as much as Fraser wanted to, he couldn't do anything that would damage the level of comfort that caused it.  
  
If Ray chose to take care of his sexual needs himself and allow Fraser to share all the other rewards of a relationship, then Fraser would do the same. His bond with Ray was stronger than that shared by many married couples and the one time he'd bought that to Ray's attention, Ray had told him they had about as much sex as most married couples, too.  
  
If he couldn't touch Ray in quite the manner he wanted to, there was nothing stopping him from looking and he took this rare opportunity to do just that. Ray had filled out in recent months, the extra muscle gained while trekking through the ice and snow had lost a little of its definition and Ray looked the healthiest Fraser had seen him. There was no sign of flab to justify Ray's sensitivity about his weight, just a firm, solid body with such smooth, inviting skin that Fraser longed to skim his hands down Ray's abdomen and lift the towel that was clinging wetly over his pelvis.  
  
As his eyes followed his heart, Fraser noticed a distinct tenting in that towel and his own body responded to Ray's arousal. Try as he might, he couldn't slow his heart rate and his breathing became shallow as he fought for control. Ray was enjoying his touch. He didn't know if it was hope or desire that made him feel suddenly giddy, but whatever it was, he would take it. He hadn't felt this excited in a long time.  
  
Perhaps it was his breathing that disturbed Ray, or maybe it was the pounding of his heart, but Ray tensed suddenly and sat upright, pulling his knees up to his chest.  
  
"Jeez, Frase, I'm sorry. It's just..." Ray looked down at his feet and wrapped his arms around his legs, his bandaged hands sticking awkwardly out at either side.  
  
"Human touch." Fraser completed his sentence.  
  
"Yeah, and it felt..."  
  
"Good?"  
  
"Good." Ray echoed. "I guess... well I..."  
  
"You have needs, Ray, I'm aware of that." Fraser said kindly.  
  
"Yeah, but I'm not like you, Frase. I have needs a lot."  
  
"I know, Ray, your libido is quite high." Even as the words left his mouth, Fraser realised he may have said too much.  
  
Ray's head whipped around and he looked at Fraser with something close to fear in his eyes.  
  
"How do you know that? I did _not_ tell you that."  
  
Fraser found it hard to meet Ray's eyes, but looking away was not an option.  
  
"You didn't have to tell me. We shared a sleeping bag for the better part of two months." He could feel the blush creeping up his face as he watched a matching one appear on Ray's.  
  
"Fuck. You weren't asleep? I thought you were asleep. Why didn't you say something?" Ray's voice was rising in distress.  
  
"There was nothing _to_ say. It's a perfectly natural thing to seek release when the urge arises. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."  
  
"So it didn't make you uncomfortable?"  
  
"Not in the least, Ray." Fraser lied. He couldn't bring himself to confess the nature of the discomfort he'd felt, especially since Ray appeared mortified at having gained an erection is his presence.  
  
There was a moment of awkward silence before Ray said. "You'd better rinse my hair, Frase."  
  
"Ray." Fraser steeled himself as he made a decision that could change everything for the better, or the worse.  
  
"I need to get out of the bath; can you rinse my hair already?" Ray's words were angry, but his voice sounded small and uncertain.  
  
"If I may suggest another course of action?" Fraser slipped into formality, hoping a dispassionate appearance would make Ray more amenable to his plan.  
  
"Drown myself?" Ray asked.  
  
"Don't be silly, Ray. I was thinking that perhaps I could... help you take care of your needs, since you'll be unable to do so yourself for a few days at least." A momentary twinge of guilt tugged at him, but he suppressed it with logic. He was merely offering to alleviate Ray's discomfort. Any pleasure he derived from that was incidental, surely.  
  
Ray twisted around in the tub, incredulous, "Wait. You're saying you should jerk me off so I don't get blue balls?"  
  
"They don't actually go blue, Ray."  
  
"I know that, it's a figure of speech. But that's what you're saying, right?"  
  
"That's the gist of, yes."  
  
"You'd do that? For me." Ray asked.  
  
Fraser nodded. He didn't trust his mouth not to say he'd do it for himself.  
  
"And it doesn't freak you out?"  
  
"No, Ray. I wouldn't have offered if it did."  
  
Ray leaned back in the bath. "You are one weird Mountie, Fraser."  
  
"So you keep telling me."  
  
Ray took a deep breath. "Okay. But just so you know, me saying yes to this? It's one of those head on a stick things."  
  
Fraser laughed. "It is indeed."  
  
He was just considering how best to begin when Ray spoke again.  
  
"Uh, Frase? Do you think you could maybe rinse my hair first? I don't want that in my hair, you know."  
  
"No, I imagine you don't. Sit up then."  
  
As he poured the water over Ray's head, Fraser felt himself calming. Action was always the easiest part of any plan and he found this was no different. When he'd finished rinsing, Fraser pulled Ray gently back down so that he could relax fully. He rubbed Ray's shoulders, feeling the tension ease from them slowly. Ray's eyes were once again closed, but his expression was not as peaceful as the last time Fraser gazed down at it from this angle.  
  
Knowing words wouldn't help matters any, he determined to let his hands do the talking and reassure Ray that this was something he was happy to do. He massaged slowly down Ray's chest, leaning forward as he did. He felt wetness from Ray's hair seep through his Henley and realised that this was not the best position to be attempting this from.  
  
He kept one hand on Ray's chest as he moved around to the side of the tub and Ray shifted slightly, but didn't open his eyes, seemingly not wanting to see what Fraser was doing. Perhaps it was for the best, there was no need for any kind of pretence if he wasn't being watched. He could concentrate solely on Ray's pleasure.  
  
He slid his hands down Ray's stomach, just as he'd imagined earlier, and pushed the towel down Ray's legs. The drag of it surprised Ray and Fraser felt him tense a little, even as his half hard cock began to fill again. Fraser's own penis swelled in response.  
  
Cupping his palm over Ray's growing hardness, Fraser rubbed up the length before wrapping his fingers around and stroking back down to the base. Ray inhaled sharply and Fraser placed his free hand on Ray's chest, stroking lightly to reassure him. As he found a rhythm, stroking and squeezing gently, Ray's breathing took on the familiar ragged pattern that had caused Fraser so many sleepless nights in the past. This time, though, Fraser had no need to feign oblivion and his body took full advantage. His own breathing became harsh and his hips rocked slightly as his now fully hard cock sought some kind of contact.  
  
Ray was vocalising softly now and he was thrusting gently into Fraser's hand. The sight of it made Fraser groan unintentionally. He started slightly as he felt a touch on his face and turned his head to find Ray looking at him, eyes wide with desire. Ray stroked Fraser's cheek softly and Fraser couldn't help himself, he groaned again and turned his face further, capturing one finger in his mouth and sucking softly. Ray gasped and thrust upward suddenly and Fraser closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of Ray coming in his hand.  
  
He eased his movements to a stop, loosening his grip as Ray subsided. Ray's finger slipped from his mouth and Fraser knew that if he didn't leave the room now, he'd confess everything to Ray.  
  
"There's a towel on the rack for you, Ray. Take your time getting up; you may be a little light headed form the hot water. I'll empty the tub later."  
  
The only response he got was a quiet, "Mmm." And he stood quickly and retreated to his bedroom.  
  
Once there he shut the door quietly and removed his boots and jodhpurs in record time. He was so hard that he was aching and he sat heavily on the end of the bed, leaning back only far enough to get one hand into his boxers. There was no opportunity to savour the images in his mind from moments ago, they flashed through his head as he gripped himself tightly and stroked hard and fast. He couldn't care if Ray heard him and he grunted loudly as his climax ripped through him, overwhelming him and leaving him unable to catch his breath for several moments.  
  
By the time Fraser had cleaned himself up and changed into sweats, Ray was sitting on the couch in his customary boxers and tank top, struggling to get the lid off a bottle of water.  
  
"You good?" he asked in a voice that sounded no different to any other time he'd asked the exact same thing.  
  
"Fine, Ray. You?" Fraser responded as he took the bottle from Ray and opened it before handing it back.  
  
"Thanks. You'll have to use the remote, too. Hands are a bit sore."  
  
"Would you like something to help that?" Fraser made a move toward the kitchen.  
  
"Nah, I'm good, Frase. A little bit of pain never hurt anyone, right?"  
  
Fraser looked doubtful for a moment and then sat down, close beside Ray, just like he did every night. If Ray was going to pretend nothing had happened, then he would happily play along.  
  
They argued over what to watch for a few minutes, then settled on reruns of Gilligan's Island. Dief demanded to go out for his evening stroll at the usual time and when they got back, Ray was sound asleep with the television still on and his head on an awkward angle.  
  
Fraser smiled as he once again covered Ray with a blanket and padded quietly off to shower and bed. It would seem that the duet was strong enough to withstand just about anything. Sleep came much more easily than he thought it would.  
  
He awoke with a start sometime later to hear Ray calling his name.  
  
"Frase. You awake?" Ray was leaning over him and whispering as though he might wake someone else.  
  
"I will be in just a moment. What's wrong?"  
  
"I can't sleep."  
  
In the dim light that filtered in from the next room, Fraser could see by Ray's posture that he was unsure of himself.  
  
Fraser lifted the covers. "Come on, then."  
  
"No. We need to talk." Ray didn't move. So there was to be fallout from his earlier actions, after all.  
  
"Why are you whispering, Ray? Get in; we can talk where it's warm."  
  
Ray hesitated for a brief moment, then shook his head and climbed into the bed he'd bullied Fraser into buying. Fraser scooted over to make room for him and Ray wiggled his way into the warmth that he'd left behind. Fraser put his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. The whole process was achingly familiar and Fraser couldn't help but wonder if this might be the last time he'd experience it. He waited patiently for Ray to tell him what was on his mind.  
  
"So, I feel a bit pink about before." Ray said hesitantly.  
  
Not knowing the correct response, Fraser stayed silent and waited for Ray to continue.  
  
"Thing is, I never told you, but I've sort of tried guys before. Nothing serious, just a thing with one of Stell's college friends and her boyfriend. Details aren't important. Just...it wasn't bad, but it wasn't great."  
  
"I see." Was all Fraser could manage. This was obviously Ray's version of the "Thanks, but no thanks" speech.  
  
"No. You don't. I should've told you, but I didn't. I let you do that for me and you didn't know that maybe I said yes for the wrong reason. What I also didn't tell you was that those nights in the tent? It wasn't just nature, Frase. It was you. Smelling good and feeling good. Warm and, I don't know, you seemed to like me there. I wanted... you I guess."  
  
Fraser took a breath, but Ray didn't let him speak.  
  
"Don't say anything. That thing in the bath was you touching me and me liking it, Frase, but it was more than that, wasn't it? It was you touching me and you liking it, too."  
  
As hard as it was to form words at that moment, Fraser managed to respond. "Yes. Yes it was."  
  
"And after? You, uh... you had some needs of your own to take care of, am I right?"  
  
"I did, yes." Fraser cursed himself for sounding so formal in this, of all conversations.  
  
There was silence as Ray took that in and Fraser tried to believe what he'd just heard. He turned on his side and looked at Ray, who turned to face him and scooted close enough that Fraser could feel his breath. The light from the doorway illuminated Ray softly and Fraser saw him lick his lips nervously.  
  
"People talk about us, Frase. They think we're already like that."  
  
Fraser nodded. He wanted so badly to reach for Ray, but felt it wasn't his place to make that move.  
  
"So, what about you? You ever been with guys before?" Ray asked.  
  
Honesty was the only policy now and Fraser hoped that Ray could accept him once he knew. "A few. I've only ever had one heterosexual relationship and it ended badly."  
  
Ray nodded slowly, frowning a little, but he didn't seem surprised. He reached out and brushed his fingertips over Fraser's lips. "So. You can help me out here. Show me what to do?"  
  
"If that's what you want, Ray. I'd be honoured."  
  
"That's what I want, Frase. You." Ray took his fingers away and replaced them with his mouth, kissing Fraser tentatively at first, then with more hunger as Fraser responded in kind. He burrowed in close, pressing his toes against Fraser's ankles and laughed when Fraser pulled away in shock at the cold.  
  
"Sorry. Couldn't resist." Ray tried to keep a straight face, but failed miserably and gave in to the cheeky smile that Fraser loved so much.  
  
"Thank you, Ray." Fraser said, suddenly serious.  
  
"For what, taking advantage of your kind nature, or freezing your feet?"  
  
"Your honesty and your courage."  
  
Ray's smile wavered for a brief moment, but returned full force when Fraser cupped the back of his neck with one hand.  
  
"Forget about it, Frase. That's what friends are for."  
  
"So I should expect to hear how much I suck now?"  
  
Ray shook his head and claimed Fraser's lips once more, small, soft kisses that grew longer each time until they were both breathing heavily and Ray's hips were rocking forward rhythmically.  
  
Breaking the kiss, Ray placed his forehead against Fraser's. "Whoa! I don't know about the sucking part, Frase."  
  
Even though he knew perfectly well what Ray meant by that comment, Fraser deliberately chose to respond to the other possible meaning. He pushed Ray over onto his back and kissed him hard. "Lesson one, Ray. Pay attention."  
  


  
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